Easter in Norwich: Robert Hardman visits 'UK most godless city' to find why shops are packed and pews empty
Wherever you stand in this grand old city, it is extremely hard to avoid God. At every turn, there is a spire or a tower in the middle distance. In fact, the best place to view the magnificent Norman, Anglican cathedral is from its rival — the Catholic cathedral.
It used to be Norwich’s proud boast that it had a church for every week of the year and a pub for every day. That is certainly no longer the case for the pubs, which can now be counted in the tens rather than the hundreds.
But the churches have fared much better. There are still 32 of them inside the old city walls and another dozen on the city fringes. Indeed, another of Norwich’s proud boasts — and I soon discover it has quite a few — is that it has more medieval churches than any other city in northern Europe.
All of which leaves me scratching my head and asking myself: what the hell I am doing here? For I have set off in search of the most godless place in the land; the community least likely to be saying ‘Happy Easter’ and swapping eggs this weekend.
And that place is Norwich, where no less than 42.5 per cent of the population say that they have no religion at all. Oh ye of little faith . . .
As the Mail’s Changing Britain series continues to turn over our old assumptions about the state of the nation today, it is clear that few things have changed as much as our attitudes towards the Almighty.
Of all the data revealed by the latest census, perhaps the most striking discovery has been the divide between those who believe in something and those who believe in nothing at all.
As the Christian world celebrates Easter this weekend, it makes very uncomfortable reading for its leaders. All the signs are that a country which was almost entirely Christian until very recently could, within a generation, classify its Christians as a minority.
And it won’t be because everyone else is converting to another god. It will be because Britain is, increasingly, giving up on religion altogether. The Gospel of Jesus Christ has been replaced by that of Simon Cowell or Richard Dawkins.
More... Following in Jesus's footsteps: Christians around the world commemorate Good Friday by acting out the crucifixion Alleged son of Westboro Baptist Church leader attacked in publicity stunt by naked 500lb man who burst out of bathroom, sat on him and shouted: 'Who's your daddy?' Hate preacher Anjem Choudary will not be prosecuted for urging followers to claim 'Jihad Seeker's Allowance'According to the census, Christianity saw a drastic decline over the period of 2001 to 2011 from 72 per cent to 59 per cent of the population in England and Wales.
Islam, on the other hand, saw a marked rise and now accounts for 4.8 per cent of the population. For Buddhists, Hindus, Jews and Sikhs — making up another 4 per cent — there has been a marginal increase.
No religion, though, has prospered like ‘no religion’ itself. The numbers of those ticking that box on their census form has almost doubled from 7.7 million in 2001 to more than 14 million in 2011. It means that a quarter of the people of England and Wales are godless.
As the Church of England’s activists continue to bicker about gay marriage and women bishops, the Catholic hierarchy wonders where the next abuse scandal is coming from and the Methodists and Unitarians recede into obscurity, millions have clearly decided that organised religion has had its day.
Scotland has yet to publish its own figures but, given that the number of non-believers north of the border was a hefty 28 per cent in the 2001 census, that number will certainly have risen in the subsequent decade.
A changing Britain: According to the latest census, Christianity saw a drastic decline over the period of 2001 to 2011 from 72 per cent to 59 per cent of the population in England and Wales Decline: It appears that Britain is, increasingly, giving up on religion altogether. The Gospel of Jesus Christ has been replaced by that of Simon Cowell or Richard Dawkins (pictured)Northern Ireland, unsurprisingly, takes religion rather more seriously. But even there, 10 per cent say they have no religion.
Then there are well over four million people who have simply ignored the religion section of the census form altogether. Put the whole lot together and getting on for a third of the UK population has failed to register any religious affiliation.
And in Norwich, it is just over half. An unsurpassed 42.5 per cent have ticked the box for ‘no religion’ and a further 8.2 per cent ticked no box at all. Norwich only just pips Brighton, which also crosses the 50 per cent mark, followed closely by Bristol.
So as I stand beneath the 315 ft spire of this superb 12th-century cathedral, there is one obvious question for the Bishop of Norwich: where’s everyone gone?
‘I really don’t feel that religion is dead round here,’ says the Rt Rev Graham James. ‘I suspect the census has a lot to do with the fact that Norwich has a university and a lot of young people for whom “no religion” is the default response.’ The census does indeed suggest a link between youth and lack of faith.
In Norwich, no less than 42.5 per cent of the population say that they have no religion at all (Robert Hardman pictured)The Bishop points to the fact that, across rural Norfolk, almost two-thirds of people classify themselves as ‘Christian’. He also points out the new Archbishop of Canterbury chose Norwich as his first stop on his Journey In Prayer around England, drawing thousands to meet him.
Another factor, he adds, is that Norwich has a healthy ‘mind your own business’ attitude when it comes to personal questions.
‘Wherever you look in this city, religion is actually playing a major part in public life.’
Mike Loveday, author of The Norwich Knowledge, agrees. ‘If you took the religious dimension out of this city, there would be a vast, gaping hole.’
We are sitting in Norwich’s medieval Guildhall, a flint-covered gem overlooking the bustling market square, from where he runs the HEART heritage trust.
‘I don’t think it’s a case of Norwich being godless. It’s an example of Norwich being different. Right across Norfolk, there’s always been a strong tradition of non-conformists and dissenters.’
I can’t help wondering if there may be some sort of environmental factor, too. The Green Party is easily the second largest on the city council, and Norwich is a world centre for climate change research while equally godless Brighton has elected Britain’s first Green MP.
But what of the Catholics? Norwich’s Roman Catholic cathedral may be a young pup (1882) compared with the Anglican masterpiece, but it’s the highest spot in the city and is a fine sight commanding the skyline.
Local Catholics are still waiting for the appointment of a new bishop — still in the new Pope’s in-tray — but the stand-in, Father David Bagstaff, 61, says that across East Anglia as a whole, the diocese is in good shape.
The influx of Poles to places such as Peterborough has given Catholic numbers a boost. He’s at a loss to explain why — on paper at least — the city is so devoid of faith.
‘I just don’t recognise what the census is saying and I’m not sure I have an answer,’ says Fr David over a cup of tea in the cathedral cafe. ‘It’s not always easy for people living out their faith openly in the market place as it were, but our numbers seem to be holding up.’
Just across the road, they are preparing Passover celebrations at the Norwich Hebrew Congregation’s synagogue. The area’s Jewish population is too small to support a full-time rabbi, so lay minister Alex Bennett does the honours.
The new Archbishop of Canterbury (pictured with the Bishop of Norwich Rt Rev Graham James) chose Norwich as his first stop on his Journey In Prayer around EnglandHe admits that his congregation is an older one and that numbers are shrinking. Even so, he cannot fathom why Norwich is any more godless than anywhere else.
Down at the nearby mosque, however, numbers are on the increase, hence the smart new centre for the Norwich & Norfolk Muslim Association with a cafe for all-comers.
Its president, Masoud Gadir, certainly senses that society is becoming more secular. He says that Norfolk has none of the tensions which can exist in inner-city areas elsewhere but he has Christian friends who are worried about their religion.
‘Some of them tell me that Christianity keeps diluting its message, that if you ask a Christian leader a difficult question, they dodge the answer,’ he says. ‘If people of faith keep changing their stance, then they lose confidence. Perhaps that’s why so many people now worship glitter or money instead of looking for meaning in their lives.’
How many Muslim atheists does he know? ‘I have never met such a person,’ he laughs.
All the signs from the recent census indicate that a country which was almost entirely Christian until very recently could, within a generation, classify its Christians as a minoritySo where are all these godless people? During an afternoon of random chats in the market square, I meet a lot of people who shrug and reflect that they are ‘probably C of E’, but only because their parents were. Interestingly, I don’t find anyone who will be going to church this weekend.
It is all music to the ears of Andrew Goodchild, the local representative of the British Humanist Association.
‘I’m rather proud of Norwich for being ready to reject the old and accept the new,’ says the 46-year-old father of four.
An extremely cheerful ex-Army officer who now flies civilian helicopters for a living, he argues that we are all born atheist and that it is only parental indoctrination which makes us religious.
‘Name me any other part of society in which you are expected to follow Bronze Age books,’ he says, referring to the Bible. ‘If I go to hospital, I want to see the surgeon, not the chaplain.’
He laughs at the idea of ‘aggressive atheism’ — ‘it’s quite hard to get aggressive about nothing’ — and has no problem with the cultural aspects of religion.
He got married in a ‘nice old church with an organ’ because his bride lived next door to it, and his younger daughters enjoy Easter eggs and Father Christmas.
More from Robert Hardman... Hero who makes Biggles look like a wimp: He's flown more planes than anyone else in history - and took 2,000 Nazis prisoner single-handed. And now, at 94, he's telling his breathtaking story 06/05/13 Let's start a conga! bawled one plummy voice. The angriest turbo-Trot would've had to admit it was a pretty feeble protest: Robert Hardman joins the Trafalgar Square party 14/04/13 As 2,000 guests prepare for Lady T's funeral, just four names appear in the City's book of tributes 11/04/13 The bland, the vain, the self-important, the emotionally incontinent... they all took to Twitter seconds after Lady Thatcher died 09/04/13 The wicked witch and the Falklands traitor... that's all you need when you can't move 27/02/13 The town that's had enough: We visit the place with the country's biggest influx of East Europeans 01/02/13 Abdication would reduce Britain's monarchy to a cheap popularity contest 30/01/13 Why we SHOULD upset the Germans - by reminding them of their Great War atrocities 14/01/13 VIEW FULL ARCHIVEBut he does not believe that faiths should be allowed to intrude on public life — in the administration of local schools, for example — when non-believers are ignored.
‘You don’t get humanists ringing up the council to say they’ve been offended by this or that, and you don’t get people blowing each other up in the name of atheism.’
The British Humanist Association now numbers some 30,000 members, including celebrity non-believers such as Stephen Fry and Professor Brian Cox.
Its chief executive, Andrew Cobson, 32, admits that even he was astonished by the census results. ‘It was one of the biggest shifts in identity in the past 100 years,’ he says.
And he believes that the number of non-believers is higher than the census suggests.
‘The census asks “what is your religion?” which is a loaded question because it assumes that you have one to start with,’ he says. He believes the further decline of religion is inevitable as non-belief becomes more respectable and fewer children grow up in religious households.
‘Look at Scotland,’ he says. ‘Last year, there were more humanist weddings than Catholic ones.’
Now, as a paid-up member of the Church of England, I would be dismayed to see my dear old bumbling, dithery institution fade from view. The census also shows that in some places Christianity is thriving (even though regular C of E church-goers number just 1.6 million).
The opposite of Norwich is Knowsley, in the Diocese of Liverpool, where more than 80 per cent of people still call themselves Christian. According to the diocese, attendance rates there are up by 4 per cent year on year.
But it is just as well for the Church of England that the English and Welsh census still lacks one crucial question. Unlike the census forms in Scotland and Northern Ireland, there is no breakdown of Christianity into its component parts.
Take away the Catholics and the other denominations from the 59 per cent who are ‘Christian’ and Anglicans must be down perilously close to the half-way mark among the overall population.
Imagine if a future census showed that the C of E amounted to a minority sport. How long would it be before there was a significant political push to boot the bishops out of the Lords and dis-establish the Church?
Deep waters. But not, of course, for half the people in Norwich who simply couldn’t care less.
Happy Easter.
Bel Mooney: The real meaning of Easter — pages 56-57
